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Full text of "The Letters Of Horace Walpole Vol I"

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T.—If, ah! if they neither kill, Sorrow will.
You will excuse this gentle nothing, I mean mine, when I tell you, I translated it out of pure good-nature for the use of a disconsolate wood-pigeon in our grove, that was made a widow by the barbarity of a gun. She coos and calls me so movingly, 'twould touch your heart to hear her. I protest to you it grieves me to pity her. She is so allicholly as anything. I'll warrant you now she's as sorry as one of us would be. Well, good man, he'.s gone, and he died like a lamb. She's an unfortunate woman, but she must have patience ; 'tis what we must all come to, and so as I was saying,
Dear George,
Good bye t'ye,
Yrs. sincerely,
P.S. I don't know yet when I shall leave Cambridge.
I am returned again to Cambridge, and can tell you what I never expected, that I like Norfolk. Not any of the ingredients, as hunting or country gentlemen, for I had nothing to do with them, but the county; which a little from Houghton is woody, and full of delightful prospects. I went to see Norwich and Yarmouth, both which I like exceedingly. I spent my time at Houghton for the first week almost alone ; we have a charming garden all wilderness; much adapted to my romantic inclinations. The last week I had company with me. I don't hear whether
LETTER 11.—Not in C.; now printed from original in possession of Viscount Gotham,
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